


Flock

by Anesther



Category: Ava's Demon
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 08:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10940808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anesther/pseuds/Anesther
Summary: Raven simply wanted a nice outing in the woods. [prompt-based]





	Flock

**Author's Note:**

> Originally requested by inkplumes.
> 
> Cleaned up another old piece to get back into it, inserted once unknown names, the usual. Once rated T for blood mention, but it's minor so that changed as well.  
> Everyone’s two years younger than in canon.

“Raven, come on!” Crow shouts, dangling from a high branch.

Huffing, Raven places her hands on her knees, “Hah… hah… Crow, you… know what Olai said!”

Rolling her eyes, Crow pulls herself up, gripping the branch tightly, “I _know_ what he said. Don’t be a big baby about it.”

Walking to the tree, Raven digs her toes into a foothold, scaling the trunk slowly, occasionally glancing down at the ground. Nervous, she manages to grasp the same branch. She reaches out, barely brushing the bark.

Crow gives an exasperated groan. She rolls her eyes before extending down to pull her sister up, “You’re never going to get better if you don’t do stuff on your own.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Raven utters, before turning to Crow. “You still helped me though.”

Smacking her, Crow gets to her feet. Her arms outstretched to either side.

Raven eyes her anxiously, “Be careful!”

Crow walks forward, balancing on the limb, creaking beneath her weight, “Oh, we’re fine.”

Raven remains in place.

Twirling on the ball of her foot, Crow whirls around, motioning with her head. She watches her sister’s face falter. She begins to walk backward, taunting, “Come on!”

Heaving a sigh, Raven shakily rises as well, following suit. Crow curls her fingers, offering. Taking them, Raven inches with her sibling along the branches, easing over the wood, leaves rustling whenever they jostle their perch.

After a while, Raven loosens up. Crow releases her hand, the two moving freely atop the tree on their own. Raven boldly bends her knees, leaping forward and landing on a branch.

“Whoa, whoa!” she cries, rocking back on her tiptoes, finding balance. She beams widely at Crow, who stares at her in surprise. Their smiles mirror each other’s; Crow jumps out. Her landing is better, more precise, though Raven still holds out a hand to steady her, should she need it.

Crow doesn’t hesitate on the next jump, and Raven hurriedly times hers before leaping.

The two continue this game for a while, the afternoon sun seeping through the leaves, playing shadows on their frames. Crow pauses on a wider branch, staring up through the canopy.

“We should probably head back home.”

“Aww,” Raven whines.

“Come on,” she insists.

Raven groans, “Fine. Isn’t it just Odin home?”

“Yeah, Olai and Magpie went out for something.”

Thinking, Raven tilts her head, “Why do you think he’s usually taking her but not us?”

“Dunno, don’t really care,” Crow says, not making eye contact. “Better for us, right?”

Raven fixates on her sister’s head, trying to find words to say. There aren’t any.

They begin their descent in silence, however their movements aren’t so sure. It’s never as easy going climbing back down. Crow lifts her chin, blowing hair out of her face.

“We could always jump along the branches until we’re down.”

Raven scans below, “I don’t know. The lower branches are thicker, but it doesn’t seem smart.”

“Wow, listen to _you_ think.”

“Ha-ha, Crow...”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Raven takes a deep breath, “Maybe I should go first.”

Her sister pauses, “What? Why?”

“In case you fall,” Raven explains.

“Nah.”

“But Crow—”

“It’s fine.”

Without hesitation, Crow resumes the trek to the ground, swift. Soon enough, she reaches the earth, landing deftly in the grass. She stares up at Raven, who had been following after her with less certainty. Then, they’re together.

Crow grins, arms akimbo, “Ha! And you thought we were going to fall or something.”

Laughing, Raven scratches her cheek, “Yeah, I was worried for a minute. But I guess we’re okay.”

“Of course we are,” Crow states, walking towards home. “Let’s go, it’ll take awhile to get there.”

Rushing after her, Raven asks, “Do you think we’ll be home before dark?”

“Pretty sure. The sun’s not too low yet.”

Raven nods, feeling comfortable and no longer anxious.

They continue through on the forest path, keeping to themselves; they pass one of the markers, something their father had carved into one of the trees. Their parents and brothers had designed the trail before they were born, part of a network of interconnected pathways, symbols engraved in either stones, trees, or spare junk they fashioned into a sign.

The sisters would pore over the maps to memorize where to go, the safe zones at least, should they venture out unaccompanied, something they did often. And it was also fascinating to them that their family had managed to make out a coherent diagram from practically nothing but endless spruces and wildlife, a part of their history that they wish they could’ve known. But they suppose it’s better than being kept out of the loop.

Crow’s fingers graze over the image of an arrowhead, etched in a rock, indicating they’re close to home. She glances to the right, another boulder set almost directly across from the one she’s touching. There are lines scratched without any real direction or care, as if it’d been frantically scraped into stone: _don’t enter._

Only their parents could go there, and now their brothers.

Supposedly, it’s rigged with traps and wires, to keep more dangerous animals in. Should they get caught and die, they seize the opportunity to collect them, so they can be taken back home to use. Or any creature that isn’t aware of them—they don’t have to be vicious. Food is food and fur is fur. Olai had improved numerous snares, from what Odin’s said about the current ones, having gone with him to help.

Crow steps forward—

Raven grips her sister’s arm, “We’re not supposed to head over there.”

“I just want to see what Odin meant—about Olai improving the wires.”

“We don’t have to. Olai doesn’t want us there, period.”

“You worry too much,” she answers, waving her hand before tugging her arm out of her sibling’s grip, darting over.

“Crow! Crow get back here!”

“Just a peek!” she shouts, hopping over a large fallen log, scuttling over the moss and dropping over.

Raven paces back and forth, pouting and wringing her hands, wishing she had a weapon. She dashes after her sister, slapping her hand on the log, easily maneuvering over. She lands. Stays where she is. Scans the area. Raven looks up at the sky, a cheery blue, cloudless, warm sunlight bathing her back. Standing slowly, she trudges along, occasionally glancing at her feet to ensure she isn’t stepping into one of the traps.

Quietly, she peers around, trying to figure out where Crow went. Raven kneels, clearing away fallen leaves, searching for footprints. The young girl looks to the east, heading down a steep hill. Breathing slowly, angling her feet, Raven tries to find good spots to step on and keep from tumbling down the incline.

Palms sweaty, Raven attempts to clasp a jutting boulder, working down the same way she did the tree. She taps her foot thrice on a patch of dirt. It crumbles away, dwindling into soil and debris.

“Alright… not there,” she utters.

Puffing hair from her eyes, Raven inches down, checking another; that one is fine. She continues this measured process until she reaches the bottom, putting a hand to her chest. Took a while but it’s better she try to stay in one piece, in case Crow wasn’t. Though she highly doubted that—Crow wasn’t stupid.

“Pfft… but she did leap in a tree earlier,” she murmurs out loud.

And ran off. Not the smartest thing her sister’s ever done.

Twigs break under her steps, the chirps in the branches softening into nothing. She glances up, bright cyan darkening in shade between patches of green, and she notices the sun beginning to sink. Groaning, Raven takes a quick breath and exhales.  Patting her face, she ponders where to venture next. Olai and Odin wouldn’t have this problem, so neither should she—

Something scuttles along her back, tingles racing up her skin—

Screaming, Raven bolts away, trying to reach behind her and throw off whatever’s decided to climb on top of her, oh, ew ew ew, _it’s in her shirt_ —

Squealing, she slams her back against a tree, scraping roughly against it, bits of bark marring her clothes, digging into her body. Huffing, she grumbles to herself, not feeling anything. Did she psyche herself out?

Looking at the sky, blues fade, red overtaking it to purple hues. Raven stomps her foot, angry, tired and embarrassed with herself. She yells at the top of her lungs, “ _Crow!_ Come on, this isn’t funny!”

Leaves rustle overhead, the creatures of her sister’s namesake cawing, mocking her.

“Crow, seriously—Olai’s going to be so mad at us, he’s probably back by now! We’re supposed to be home before dark, always, always, _always_ , unless we’re with him!”

Ugh, nothing! And what’s more, now that she thinks about it… she might be lost. Gulping, she tries a breathing technique, inhaling for six, exhaling for ten. Okay, don’t panic, there has to be a way out of here. Her brothers wouldn’t just set up markings outside of this section of the woods, there’s bound to be some here.

Raven halts at the sound of growling, growing rigid. She peers over her shoulder, a bobcat eyeing her intensely. It hisses, yowling angrily.

She puts up a hand in defense, aiming to step backwards. What is it about bobcats? 

It releases a warning growl.

Gods, why did she have to be alone? What did Olai say? Be loud—

Hackles rising, the animal surges past her, air whooshing in her ear. She spins aside, watching it bound away, not finding her a threat or food. Relieved, the girl ignores the shudder running down her spine, continuing her search. Her sister is somewhere around here. But how could she have covered so much ground in the seconds she hesitated to run after her?

Raven cups her hands to either side of her mouth, shouting for Crow again, to no avail. This is becoming worse by the minute, and it’ll be night very, very soon, faint stars already deciding to peek through. Raven scans the ground, trying to find clues, something—

She jerks to a stop, falling to her knees and getting close to the dirt. Those look like… footprints! And Crow’s size too. They don’t look too fresh anymore. Standing to full height, she jogs past shrubbery, frightening a pair of rabbits into their warren. The further she goes, the more pronounced the footfalls. She should be getting close…!

Skidding to a halt, mud flicking into the air, Raven catches sight of her sister, laying on the ground, face twisted in a pained grimace.

“Crow! There you are!” Raven cries, relief swelling in her chest before freezing, eyes wide and eyebrows shooting up. Crow’s leg is stuck in a foothold trap, the jaw clamped tightly over her ankle. There’s blood seeping into her hair, streaking down the side of her face. Stooping down, Raven’s fingers twitch, wondering what she should do.

Frantically, Raven looks around, trying to find a branch to pry it open with. Or—

“Maybe together we can pull it apart,” she says, latching onto it.

Crow whimpers, “Ugh, it _couldn’t_ have been a snare…”

“Shut up and help out, I mean— Have you tried?” she says, jamming her fingers into the jaw. Thankfully, this one doesn’t have the teeth.

Sweating, Crow sits up, pushing her fingers on the other side, “Uh… Crap, I got stuck ten minutes ago, maybe…”

Grunting, the two attempt to pull it back. The spring is tight, not giving way. Raven huffs, heart pounding, “I don’t get it—you were gone a while, what do you mean you only got stuck ten minutes ago?”

Crow screams, frustrated, panting, “Why won’t it come _off?_ ”

“Odin!” Raven says, mind suddenly clear. “He’s strong, I can bring him back here!”

“Don’t leave me!” Crow yells, panicked.

She stops, staring down at her sister’s frightened expression before putting her hands on her shoulders, “I know, but Odin can help—”

“No, no, no,” she says, trembling. Her face is pale, lips whiter. “The reason I’m stuck here is ‘cause of _that_.”

Raven frowns before gazing at the direction her sibling’s point at. Fangs bared, eyes glinting with fear and rage, Raven watches a wolverine struggle, its paw caught in wire, snarling viciously.

“ _He_ got the snare,” Crow grumbles bitterly.

Tense, Raven looks back at her sister, “It’ll be okay, it’s trapped.”

“What if it chews its leg off?” Crow whispers, trying to inch away, not wanting it to overhear.

The wolverine growls, brutally clawing at the earth, raking away dead leaves. Raven holds her sister’s hands, “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Crow gives a shuddering breath, “Okay… do you think he’ll know where to find me?”

“Yeah, he helped put these around. He can’t always be dumb,” Raven says lightheartedly, glancing at the beast in her periphery. Crow doesn’t laugh. It’s ceased moving, peering at them with dark eyes.

Raven tells Crow again she’ll be back before running ahead, hurtling over fallen logs and through trees, trying to get home. Night plummets, ink painting the canvas overhead. There’s little moonlight, obscuring her vision.

Raven’s lungs burn, heart hammering powerfully in her chest, terrified worried breathing hard hoping Crow will be okay until she gets Odin Odin can help Odin can make it better—

“Raven!”

Whipping around, the child covers her eyes from the harsh beam of light directed at her. Lowering her arm, she stares at her brother, standing in the midst of the wood, frame dimly shown. She can’t help but break into sobs, rushing over to him, panting heavily. Odin reaches out for her, and Raven grips his wrist, dragging him, “Odin, come on, come on, Crow—!”

Odin allows her to pull him, asking, “Crow, wh-where is she?”

“I… she’s that way, she got her foot stuck in one of the traps and—”

“Raven, which o-one?”

She struggles to think, “Uh, it’s… It’s that way—over some logs, and there’s a snare nearby.”

He nods, suddenly picking her up, running in the direction she faced. She holds tightly around his neck with one arm, the other holding up the light for him to see. She breathes, smells smoke. She turns her head, “You know where she is?”

“Y-Yeah, sounds like trap set 23,” Odin states confidently. “How long h-had she been there when y-you found her?”

“She said about ten minutes, but it’s longer by now.”

Odin goes quiet, focused on sprinting.

“Will she be okay?”

“P-Pretty sure she’ll be fine. I’m more worried about a-an animal getting her, un-unguarded and all.”

“There was a wolverine in the snare.”

“O-Olai made those to be inescapable. As l-long as its in there, she’ll be okay then.”

Raven and Odin burst through bushes, startling Crow and the wolverine. It begins making angry noises again, though Crow is louder, “You got Odin! Oh, good.”

Without waiting, Odin settles Raven down, strides over and bends back the foothold, the jaws releasing Crow’s leg, the pan exposed in the center. Raven hugs her sister tightly, saying, “I’ll help you up.”

“I’ll p-pick her up,” Odin interjects. “We need to g-get her home so we can p-patch up wounds if we have to.”

The girls nod, liking the plan. Odin is about to scoop them into his arms when the sound of tugging resumes. The Arrows stare at the animal, trying hard to escape, wailing, weak. It collapses in exhaustion, glancing at them in terror and defeat.

Crow’s hands clench tightly; she peers up at her brother, “Can’t you shoot it?”

“It’ll be a w-waste of ammo.”

“It takes days for them to die like that.”

He meets her eyes, the same shade of violet.

“We need food anyway,” she murmurs, Raven’s hand on her shoulder. “And… it’s kinda sad to know about.”

Odin sighs, needing to take them home immediately. He does as she asks, “C-Cover your ears.”

The sisters raise their hands, blocking out the sound, barely muffled. Red pours out from the wound in its skull as he walks over to it, loosening the snare. He grips it in one hand, kneeling down to take Crow in his free arm, and Raven latching onto his back.

“Rae, h-hold the flashlight again so we can s-see.”

“Got it,” she says, point it ahead, blackness receding.

Crow eyes her brother carefully, “Can you carry all of us?”

“Y-Yes, you two aren’t heavy.”

“Hey, you’re getting better at complimenting girls, Din-Din,” Raven jokes.

Crow grins weakly, “Yeah, we like being told we’re not heavy.”

Odin snorts, “V-Very funny, kids.”

Breaking into a brisk jog, Odin runs toward home, taking care to not jostle his sisters too much. Grip tight on their catch and Crow, he minds brambles and odd noises. Raven angles her body to avoid hurting him and remain steady, bouncing on his back in the dark, holding the flashlight forward. She hears animals in the distance, the hairs on her neck standing up, but it’s okay. Odin found them.

Finally, they reach home, unimposing against the looming backdrop, moonlight spilling through the shingles and windows. Raven slides down her sibling’s form, landing gently on the ground. Odin carries Crow over the threshold, turning to her, holding up the wolverine, “H-Hey, take this to the smokehouse.”

Raven holds out her arms, the corpse heavy in them, mangy fur scratchy against her skin, “Okay, I’ll be back.”

She glances at Crow, who had managed to somehow fall asleep on the way. Odin looks down before meeting her eyes, “Don’t worry about it, s-she’s exhausted is all; you probably a-are too.”

Raven yawns, spinning on her heel, “Yeah… Do you want me to turn on the generator?”

“N-No, I’ll get it. Just take t-that to the smokehouse and come r-right back.”

Nodding, she heads out and around the corner, lugging the animal into the small shack. Unbolting the door, she kicks it open, dropping the body onto the table. She looks around to stare at the tinier creatures hanging on hooks, wondering when Olai is going to cure them. Remembering Crow, and to head back in, she hurries out, locking away their stock.

Raven walks into the house, barely coming through the door when she hears Crow give a shout. Sprinting up the stairs two at a time, she rushes into the room.

“That hurts!” Crow complains, shoving Odin away.

Puffing out billows of purple, their brother rotates his torso, reaching over to dip a wad of cotton into iodine, “H-Hold still and l-lay there, okay? It’ll go b-by faster if you do.”

Crossing her arms, Crow pouts out her lower lip.

Raven steps forward, eyeing Odin, “How can you be smoking right now?”

Odin glances at her, to a corner, then back, “H-Helps me focus.”

“You get nervous?” she asks, curious.

He nods, “You c-could say that. Wouldn’t w-want to make the accident worse, r-right?”

Seeing his point, Raven agrees with a similar nod to him, watching his hands, covered in plastic. Swallowing, she eyes the blood pouring from her sister’s wound, growing anxious once more. She taps her nails against the chair, “Is she supposed to be bleeding a lot?”

“H-Head wounds bleed more, but the cut’s sh-shallow.”

Crow states, “I better not have a concussion.”

“You s-said you didn’t hit your head,” Odin answers. “I’m sure you c-can sleep afterward.”

“How’d you even get cut up there?” Raven asks her.

“I don’t even remember, it was a little bit of a blur with the wolverine, trap and whatever else.”

Odin keeps silent, mending her best as he can.

Raven pipes up, “I can get you some gloves instead. I think there’s some in the bathroom cupboard.”

Odin shakes his head, “We’re already p-pushing it with running the generator f-for the electri-tricity, so I h-have it set to turn off automatically. Y-You can d-do me a favor though: g-get that cloth, soak it with water and clean up the c-cuts on Crow’s arms, ‘kay?”

“You got it,” declares Raven, feeling involved.

Crow grumbles, “She doesn’t have to do that.”

“S-She’s worried about you.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Let her h-help you out, Crow,” Odin murmurs quietly, the screen of smoke swirling as he breathes.

Falling silent, Crow stares at the ceiling, eventually hearing the return of her sibling. Raven pulls the chair closer, carefully dabbing away at the smaller cuts. She glances at Raven, focused on her arm and tries not to smile.

Odin sets the pipe down, blowing out the last remnants of smoke in his lungs. He gathers gauze, asking, “S-So… how did you two get like this?”

The two look at each other before grinning bashfully. Raven starts, “Well… first we were only climbing trees.”

“Oh, _only_ c-climbing trees?”

Crow explains, “We wanted to see how high we could go.”

“No, _you_ wanted to see how high you could go,” Raven corrects.

“Whatever, point is, we went tree climbing. But that wasn’t where we got hurt at all.”

Raven nods, “Yeah, genius over here thought it best to run to the forbidden section.”

Crow lifts her arm suddenly, smacking her in the shoulder, “Don’t insult me.”

“Well, it’s true!”

Odin shakes his head, gently putting pressure on Crow’s wound, “I can’t b-believe you two. You’re lucky the others h-haven’t come back.”

“Did they say when they would?” Raven inquires, rubbing her arm.

“In the early m-morning. You know how l-long Olai can stay out.”

The two girls sigh. Odin glances up, “H-Hey, maybe he’ll take one of you next time.”

“Maybe,” Crow murmurs.

“With what happened here today, h-he just might, if only to keep you t-two out of trouble.”

Raven’s gaze heads to her sister’s foot, the skin swollen in blues and purples, a mark of green. She turns to Odin, “Hey, what about her leg?”

“Thankfully, s-she was wearing thick boots. Otherwise it’d b-be a lot worse; there will be swelling and m-maybe some nerve damage, but no fractures,” Odin assures her. “She won’t b-be moving around l-like normal though, I k-know that much.”

Crow props herself on her elbows, “Well, I’m glad that it’s over.”

Odin collects the first aid kit, settling it back on the counter. He then walks over, scooping Crow into his arms, “You r-rest up. It’s getting l-late.”

“Okay…” Crow whispers. She peers up at him, “Odin?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you,” she tells him, head against his chest.

He smiles, “You’re w-welcome.”

Raven watches her siblings from the doorway, Odin carefully placing Crow on the mattress, pulling the covers up to her chin. They murmur something to each other, Crow snuggling into her pillow, thumb automatically moving to her mouth. Almost instantly, she sinks into sleep.

Odin brushes back her hair. Heading back to Raven, he notices the querying look on her face, so he closes the door behind him, “You should g-get to sleep too.”

“Odin, can I ask you something?”

“S-Sure.”

“Why do you care so much about us?”

He blinks, brows furrowing, “You’re m-my sisters. Am I not s-supposed to care?”

“No, you should— I’m saying…” Raven turns away. “Usually… you’re so _mean_.”

Odin’s shoulders slack, “I… I d-don’t want to be.”

“Then why are you?” she questions, not understanding.

Odin kneels in front of her, “S-Sometimes… I’m a bad p-person.”

“You weren’t bad today.”

“I g-got to look after you, d-didn’t I?”

She nods, vision blurry, “I was really scared…”

Odin opens his arms, Raven colliding into his chest. She takes shuddering breaths, Odin’s fingers threading through her hair. He hums a song she didn’t hear anymore, unless it was in memory. The scent of smoke comforts. She withdraws, wiping away her face.

Odin places a hand on her shoulder, “You o-okay?”

“Uh-huh, I guess… I needed to let it out,”

“N-Nothing to be ashamed of y’know.”

Raven licks her lips, blushing, “Can I ask something else?”

“Go for i-it.”

“Is… it wrong for me to think that today was kind of cool?”

Odin chuckles, “Nah, some a-adventure does people good.”

Raven grins widely, “Oh good. I thought it was weird to think it was exciting.”

“You’re f-fine,” he says, rising to his feet. He ushers her to the door, believing their conversation over, “Time f-for bed.”

“But…”

He pauses, “What?”

“Why do you think Crow wasn’t as scared as me?”

Odin shrugs, attempting to find proper words, “She’s just… different. She’s not usually f-fazed by a lot.”

“Do you think that’s why Olai doesn’t give me chances like he does our sisters?”

Leaning against the wall, he motions Raven to get close, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “Y-You’ve thought about this.”

“I wish I was tougher,” she whispers, the generator vibrating beneath them, slowing, the lights dwindling to soft hues, until the two are cast in black.

“H-He’ll give you a shot one day,” he comforts her, rubbing her arm.

“Do you think he’ll let you go one day? Past the forest?” She might not be given missions, but even she’s gone beyond the woods, beyond home.

They all have, except him.

And if he can be good some days, he should get to come with them when they leave.

Odin sighs to himself, “M-Maybe…”

“Once you stop being bad?”

Because, deep down, she didn’t think he would help them.

Her brother looks out the window, wan rays saturating the floorboards until they’re pale as skulls.

A dragonfly flits in the corner, vivid to him, and no one else, “Once… I stop.”


End file.
